Читать книгу Broken Heart - Laura Browning - Страница 6

Chapter 3

“Yes. Thanks.” Justin’s question served as a reminder, whether he meant it that way or not, she owed him for giving her some time alone with Jace.

“Here, darling.” Jace handed her a drink. “I made you a Cape Codder. I know how you like cranberry juice.”

She took the highball glass and drank. He eased back in beside her, leaned over and whispered in her ear. “Don’t be embarrassed, darling. You’re lovely, but you’re my wife. Justin respects our marriage. He would never do anything we didn’t want him to.”

What an odd thing to say. Still, she nodded and took another gulp from her drink. She wanted to tell him how mortified she was that he would simply bring Justin out here without giving her a chance to put on any clothing. Screwing up her nerve, she opened her mouth to say so.

“Stacey has been such an incredible help,” Justin leaned forward to tell Jace. “We’ve got almost everything picked out for my place, so once the drywall is in, we can begin painting. I don’t know what I would have done without her.”

She smiled, feeling a tad sick. This must be some alternate universe because it surely wasn’t the life Stacey Barlow-Barrett had been reared to live. She could almost picture the look of horror on her parents’ faces–probably all of her siblings as well–if they could see her now. When the two men tapped their glasses against hers and toasted her, she drank once again.

God, how could she protest when they were both being so nice? She would come off like such an uptight bitch. Instead, she listened as Justin told them where he’d gone to eat and the movie he’d seen. She continued to sip her drink, but then feeling a bit woozy, Stacey reached behind her to set the glass on the edge of the tub. When she nearly missed, Justin caught the glass and grinned at her.

“Oops! What did you do, Jace, make her drink a bit too strong?”

Stacey turned her head to look at her husband, who raised his brows. “I didn’t think so. You okay, Stacey?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m tired.” Maybe this was the way to escape.

Jace smiled at her. “I’ll help you to bed. Be a gentleman, Justin. Look the other way. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

Her husband wrapped her in a towel and tucked one around his own hips, then settled his arm behind her back. “You sure you’re okay, darling?”

She nodded but regretted the action as her head swam a bit. “Yes. Maybe I had a bit too much to drink between dinner and in the hot tub. I’m so sorry, Jace. Don’t mean to embarrass you.”

“Shh. It’s all right. We had a good evening together. Just get some sleep.”

He dried her off and tucked her in. He’d never been quite so solicitous, and she was touched. Stacey stroked his cheek. “Did you enjoy the evening?”

He kissed her forehead. “It was wonderful. You’re wonderful.”

She smiled as she drifted off. Maybe she was worried about nothing.

* * * *

Stacey awoke the following morning with a hangover almost as bad as some of the ones she’d experienced in college when she had sown a few cautious wild oats. And God! She had dreamt the most bizarre things. She shook her head. A little sex and a little alcohol and she was absolutely done in. With a board of directors meeting at Barrett Newspapers on her agenda, she couldn’t do what she truly wanted, which was to take a couple ibuprofen and bury her head beneath the blankets. After showering, she felt a bit better, but was still vowing never to mix the variety of liquors she’d drunk the night before–wine with dinner, sherry afterward, and then the vodka in the drink Jace had made.

After wrapping her damp hair in a towel, she began slathering moisturizer on her legs, her movements slowing as she looked at the bruises on the inside of her thighs. She didn’t remember Jace being so rough while they’d made love. Fingertips brushing the marks, she shook her head. They didn’t hurt, and she supposed it had been worth it. Maybe now she could get him to focus on the sexual side of their marriage, on making babies and making her forget a dark-haired, dark-eyed man who’d made her body sing with passion.

They were just love marks. Jace had gotten enthusiastic–for a change.

Still feeling a bit rough, she took a cab to Barrett’s headquarters for the monthly meeting. Her father had stepped back into his role as chairman after a heart scare earlier in the year, so Seth would only be here today to attend the meeting, no doubt with Brandon’s proxy in his pocket since Bran was still on his honeymoon with Lucy. Stacey twisted her wedding and engagement rings. Maybe she could talk to her new sister-in-law about the bruises. Never one to have close girlfriends, Stacey suddenly found herself in need of some female advice, but the newlyweds wouldn’t be back for another week.

“Good morning,” Seth greeted her as she stepped off the elevator. He arched one thick, golden brow over keen eyes so similar to her own. “You feeling all right?”

Stacey closed hers for a moment and sighed. “I had a little too much to drink. Does it show?”

“No. It’s just I know you pretty well. Problems?”

“No, in fact I’d say the opposite.”

Seth smiled. “Glad to hear it. Tessa mentioned you seemed somewhat stressed at the wedding, but we had to leave before she could talk to you, so she could nurse the baby.” Taking her hand, he tucked it through his arm and walked with her toward the boardroom. “Mother thought you might be pregnant.”

“If you’re asking me, Seth, the answer’s no. If you want to know if we’re considering it, then the answer’s yes.”

His gaze was searching as he patted her hand. She was surprised when he didn’t greet her comment with assurances about how great that was.

“I ran into Jace at the club. He introduced me to your houseguest.”

“Justin’s staying with us while his condo’s being renovated,” she felt for some reason like she needed to explain. The whole time, an image of him sitting next to her in the hot tub burned its way through her brain.

“Mmm. Jace said the two of them were close friends. Had you ever met him before?” Seth’s questions seemed casual, putting her on instant alert. Seth never asked anything just to make conversation. He was perfectly content to be silent if he was in a good mood, or growl like the lion he resembled if he wasn’t.

“No. Justin said he’d been handling his family’s holdings in Australia, so he wasn’t here during our engagement or for the wedding.” She absently twisted her rings with her thumb.

Seth smiled and touched her cheek. “You know you can talk to me if you have any problems, Stace. That’s what big brothers are for. Next to knights in shining armor, we’re the number one dragon slayers.”

She laughed, feeling lighter than she had in a couple of weeks. “I love you, Seth.”

“Same here, kiddo.”

Stacey sat next to him during the board meeting, trying hard to concentrate on the treasurer’s report, but it seemed to her the comptroller droned on and on. She began to feel a bit like Charlie Brown listening to his teacher. Everything became a series of blah, blah, blah.

Along with everyone else, she voted her approval of her father’s return to actively run the company, and Seth’s resignation as acting CEO. She knew her brother was anxious to get himself and his family back to their home on the coast, back to the paper he’d had to leave in the hands of his small, but capable staff. She enjoyed the excitement of her interior decorating and design business, but sometimes she thought she’d prefer the quiet of a house along the bay, someplace where she could let her hair down and find out for once who Stacey Barlow-Barrett was.

* * * *

Jason started in surprise when Justin walked into his office, carefully shutting and locking the door behind him. He was even more surprised when he walked right around the desk, pulled Jace to his feet and kissed him. He responded, as he always did, but eventually pulled back enough to ask, “What are you doing here?”

“I’ve found a doc in New York who will see you over the weekend.”

Jace shook his head. “It’s no use, Justin. Come on.”

Justin knelt in front of him. “Give it a shot, Jace. What can it hurt? It would give you a chance to have your own child.”

“I’m supposed to go sailing with Stacey.”

“Tell her something came up. This guy’s a male fertility specialist. He’s doing me a favor because he’s a friend of the family. You owe me this, Justin. You know I’m willing to help if I have to, but this might make it unnecessary. Please.”

Justin’s hands were moving along his thighs, making it difficult for him to think, making his heart pound with desire. How much easier would everything be if he could manage to look his family in the eye and admit the love of his life wasn’t Stacey Barlow-Barrett? It wasn’t any woman. It was Justin Worthington and it had been ever since they’d first seen each other at summer camp when they were teenagers.

* * * *

Mason congratulated himself as he drove to his house nestled beside a quiet cove. He had gone an entire week without seeing Stacey. Oh, she’d been inside the gallery a time or two, but Mason had made sure he was occupied elsewhere–like in his office with the door closed–and had managed to avoid her.

Now he was going to enjoy the weekend. He’d spend the night in his house, then sail the dinghy around to the marina tomorrow morning. From there he’d take his big boat out. Maybe spend the night anchored in some isolated cove. He sighed in anticipation of the relaxation. He’d never sailed a day in his life until he went to Harvard, then in looking for a job that would allow him to earn some spending money, he’d landed a spot helping to crew for a weekend sailor. As soon as he’d seen the wind in the sails and felt the roll of the deck beneath his feet, he’d been hooked. It had taken some time to get his own boat, but he’d built his way up just like he had with his business, buying a smaller craft in need of restoration that he’d eventually sold for larger and larger vessels.

At the last minute, Mason changed his mind about the house and decided he’d head straight for the boat. Recalling how he’d gotten started sailing had increased his longing to simply do it. After a stop to stock groceries, he hit the marina right at dusk. As he made his second trip from his car to the boat, he glanced over at the next row of slips to the boat he knew belonged to Stacey. A light was on. Was she there with her husband? Somehow, he doubted it. He’d heard through Lucy and Brandon that Winchester wasn’t keen on sailing, although he did enjoy fishing, so apparently it wasn’t a seasickness issue.

So was she there alone? Feeling pathetically like a stalker, he sat on deck with a beer in one hand, watching her boat. A short time later, the light went out, and it was only Stacey who appeared on deck. She hopped off the boat, her long legs left bare by her shorts, striding toward the marina office, ice bucket in hand. Oh yeah. Now he had an excuse, and by God he would take it. After spending time trying to avoid her, Mason was determined to run into her here where there was no one else they knew, no prying eyes to watch. No husband to be the excuse not to talk to him.

He wanted answers. After nearly two years, he wanted to know what had made her turn from what they had to the jackass she’d married. He prayed to God it had been more than a pedigree dangled in front of her. Hell, he’d have more respect for her if she told him she’d married Winchester for his money.

He nearly changed his mind when he saw her turn from the ice machine. Her shoulders were slumped, as if she had admitted defeat or simply caved in. Before he could say anything, she spotted him standing a few feet away. The evening breeze lifted her hair, which hung loose for once, the tips just brushing the swells of her breasts. It was like watching a set change at a theater production. The narrow shoulders squared, the chin lifted, and her expression cloaked itself in the same haughtiness he’d seen the first day they’d met. But this time was different. This time, Mason knew there was a passionate woman underneath her brittle veneer, a woman who right now was in pain.

“Stacey, how are you?” He asked the usual social kiss-off question, but he wanted to know, didn’t want a throwaway answer.

But it was what he got.

“Fine. Thank you for asking.” She started forward to move past him. “If you’ll excuse me?”

He stepped into her path. “No, I don’t think I will. Excuse you, that is.”

She wouldn’t look him in the eye, which might have been the very reason he noticed the faint circles, like bruises, in the delicate skin below her golden irises.

“Please, Mason,” she whispered, “I can’t take your sniping. Could you…please, could you just not?”

He took another step closer. “I don’t want to…snipe. What’s wrong, honey?”

He watched the muscles in her throat work as she gulped. She raised her free hand to smooth a lock of hair off her face, and he noticed the tremor in her hand.

“Talk to me, Stacey.”

Her lips pressed together, and she shook her head. “I-I can’t, Mason.”

He didn’t want her to go, needed to find some way to keep her near him. “Are you taking your boat out?”

She glanced behind her to where it rocked. This time her chin quivered. “I was supposed to.” Her voice was a whisper again. “I’ve got some logistical issues. Jace was supposed to crew, but something came up at the last minute…” Her voice trailed away. Mason could imagine what had happened, but he bit back his response. She turned a bright, brittle smile on him. “But hey, I still have a great weekend away from the capital.”

“Come with me,” he offered.

She started to shake her head. “It wouldn’t…”

“We’ll do day sails. I’ll come back in tomorrow night. I was going to spend the night anchored in a cove, but we can come back so you can sleep aboard your boat. No strings, Stacey. Just a chance to relax.”

He was tempting her. He could see it in the way her eyes darted longingly to his boat. There was nothing better than feeling the wind and the tilt of the deck.

“She’s fast,” he added. “Faster than Bran’s boat. I’ve beaten him both times he’s challenged me.”

He watched her thumb twisting nervously at her wedding and engagement bands. Finally, she smiled. “I’d like that.”

“Come on over at eight. We’ll spend the day on the water.”

She nodded, said good night and padded back toward her boat. It was only then he noticed she was barefoot. Sexy. It was something out of the norm for the always-correct Stacey Barlow-Barrett Winchester. Maybe the woman he’d made love to was still in there somewhere.

* * * *

She nearly chickened out a dozen times. But in the end she went, because she was a Barlow-Barrett, and she couldn’t resist sailing on a boat whose captain had twice beaten Brandon in a race. No one else in the family could do it, even their father.

She put on her suit, covered it with a polo shirt and shorts, slipped her bare feet into deck shoes and shoved her hair inside a ball cap before slipping on dark glasses. If she kept the sunglasses firmly on her nose then Mason wouldn’t be able to see the circles under her eyes.

Stacey realized as she traversed the distance between their boats she felt freer than she had in the past couple weeks. And then she felt a stab of guilt. She shouldn’t feel free with her husband away. She tried to tell herself it was simply because she would be sailing and it had been such a long time, but in her heart she knew the relief was in being away from both Jace and Justin. Her disappointment the previous evening hadn’t come from the fact her husband would be elsewhere, but that she would be limited in where she could sail without someone to crew, and she hadn’t felt like hiring a stranger. It made her uncomfortable. It seemed like people available to hire were invariably men, and she didn’t want to be on the water for hours with someone she didn’t know. It was like asking to be assaulted.

A gull wheeled overhead, and a few other sailors were preparing to depart for a day out on the waters of the Chesapeake Bay, but Stacey had eyes for only one of them. Mason was on deck, his dark hair lifting in the morning breeze. Feet planted firmly apart, he sipped from a mug of coffee and watched her approach. When she reached the side, he held out a hand to help her aboard.

“Good morning. I didn’t think you’d show.”

He still held onto her hand, and Stacey felt heat. She gulped as warmth flooded her from head to toe. He’d always affected her like this. Why this man? Why not her husband? She pulled her fingers from his, dug them in the pocket of her shorts. “I did almost chicken out,” she admitted. “Several times.”

“But you’re here.”

What to tell him? How much could she admit without feeling like she was betraying Jace and their marriage? Stacey stared out at the water, so calm here in the marina, but she knew out on the bay, it would be much more turbulent. “I needed this time here…sailing.” She turned to look at him again. “Do you ever feel like you’re losing touch with yourself?”

“Yeah.” Mason stuck his hand out. “Come on. Let’s get out on the water. You captain, I’ll crew.”

She shook her head. “No. I’m only a mediocre sailor. You call the shots. I want to see what you can make her do.”

She laughed, feeling suddenly more carefree than she had since…before her engagement. Guilt assailed her. Stacey ducked her head and went to work, doing her best to complete every task he gave her as quickly and thoroughly as possible. Once they were out on the bay, tacking a course southward, Mason grinned at her. “You’re a helluva crewman.”

She grinned back. “I’ve had plenty of experience crewing, first with my dad and sometimes with Brandon.”

“What about your eldest brother?”

“Seth?” Stacey shook her head and laughed. “He’s never sailed for speed. He’s as likely to float around in the middle of the ocean while he daydreams. I never understood that because he was always so serious and driven other than when he went out on his boat.”

Mason glanced sideways at her. “It must be his safety valve, like a pressure cooker. It’s yours too, isn’t it, except you want speed.”

“Yes.”

“You know, I can be an ear if you need to talk.” He kept his eyes on the horizon ahead of them. Stacey watched him, wishing more than anything she could pour it out, but doing so would cross the line, especially with Mason. If he knew… No, she couldn’t go there, even in her thoughts.

“I can’t, Mason. It’s not something I feel comfortable discussing…with anyone.”

His gaze narrowed on her. “Okay. Enjoy the day. I can give you that much. Make yourself comfortable. She can pretty well sail herself until we get to the cove I had in mind. We’ll anchor there and have lunch.”

Stacey nodded before going forward to perch near the bow. She wrapped her arms around her bent knees and simply enjoyed the feel of the wind and the sun on her face. Periodically she had to tuck tendrils of hair the wind had pulled loose from her cap back beneath it, and she enjoyed that too. Jace always wanted her hair sleeked into a French twist or a snug knot at the back of her head. Going with her feelings for a change, Stacey whipped off the cap and let the wind simply blow through her long hair.

She wanted the sun on her skin, and a moment later, she peeled her polo shirt off to reveal the top of her very conservative bikini. She’d leave the shorts on for now, but she already felt her tension ease, which made her wonder at how circumscribed her life had become when simply letting her hair down and showing her bikini top became such a big deal.

* * * *

When she took the cap from her head and shook out her golden blond mane of hair, Mason groped on the shelf in front of him until he found his sunglasses. After slipping them on, he could ogle her to his heart’s content without her knowing it, and most of all without making her uncomfortable. When she crossed her arms and grabbed the hem of her shirt, he felt his groin seize, then begin to pulse. His throat went dry when she pulled her shirt off to reveal the black bikini top she had on underneath. God knew he’d seen skimpier bikinis and he’d seen tops filled to overflowing, but he’d never seen one filled out quite so perfectly for him.

Jace Winchester had to be the biggest freaking idiot in the universe. No way would he leave a wife like Stacey alone on the weekend. In fact, he hadn’t left her alone. She was here with him right now, but damn it, he wasn’t about to cross the line, not when he’d realized her wedding vows actually meant something to her. Too bad the same couldn’t be said… No, he so wasn’t going there. He would simply enjoy the gift he’d been given and try to make sure she was able to do exactly what she’d said she wanted to–get in touch with who she was.

“Want to see what she can do?” he called to Stacey.

She turned her head and laughed. “I’d love to. Does this mean I should hang on?”

Mason grinned. “You got that right.”

He eased the mainsail out to run the boat before the wind. As she gained speed, he glanced at Stacey. Hair blowing into a tangled mass of golden strands, her face was alight with enjoyment. This was a woman he had never seen before. He’d seen more than enough of the buttoned-down Barlow-Barrett lady of the manor and not nearly enough of the tigress she’d become during their sexual encounters. But this woman–laughing, giddy and almost girlish in her enjoyment–was someone Mason didn’t know. He stared now, drinking her in just in case she disappeared, and wondered how he could keep this Stacey around. She was captivating.

As he watched, she made her way back to his side. “Please–may I take the wheel? Just for a few minutes? I want to see what she feels like.”

“Have you ever sailed like this?” he asked, wanting her to try it, but not wanting her to take on too much.

“No.”

“Then why don’t I stand behind you and hold the wheel too, until you get a feel for it.” When she arched a brow, he held up three fingers. “Scout’s honor. I’m not playing you here.”

She stuck her hands on her hips. “Were you ever a scout?”

“No. But believe it or not, Stacey, I do understand honor.”

Her mouth quirked. “I’m beginning to realize.”

She slipped between him and the wheel, her hair fluttering against his cheek as he put his face near hers. This would put his honor to the test. But not for long. In next to no time, she was handling the boat as if she had always done it. Although he knew she sailed, she’d admitted she wasn’t an adventurous helmsman. Mason eased away, his eyes glued to the pure joy radiating from her.

“God! No wonder Bran loves this so much,” she commented as her face lifted to the sails.

“We’ll need to change course to reach my destination. You want to try it?”

For a moment, he saw eagerness in her expression before it faded. “No. Maybe not this time.”

He took over from her, sad she didn’t have the confidence to try, but encouraged by the fact her response indicated there might be a second time. “We’ll slip into a cove that’s normally pretty deserted other than a few shore birds. We can go swimming if you’d like.”

She remained standing near him. “I’d love to.” Stacey tucked a few strands of hair behind her ear. “Thank you for this, Mason.”

The look she gave him was almost shy. When his heart clenched, he began to realize how little they actually knew about each other. Two years ago, they’d been consumed with getting the clothes off each other so they could have sex. But lust hadn’t been enough. She had gotten engaged to someone else, and any chance they’d had to form a deeper relationship had ended.

He’d like to get to know her better, but the feelings he still harbored for her made it difficult, because along with the passion was the pain from her rejection. She had completely blindsided him with her sudden engagement to Winchester, destroying his trust.

He altered course and tacked toward the cove where he’d anchor. Stacey helped, doing what he asked without question. She’d stuck the baseball cap back on her head to keep her hair out of her face. As she worked, he saw the play of muscle across her arms and shoulders. Slender, she might be, but she wasn’t weak. From what Mason had heard regarding her family, they’d spent most of their summers along the coast sailing or swimming.

They both stripped to suits once the boat was secure and went over the edge. Stacey cut through the water with the ease of someone as comfortable in the sea as on it. What amazed Mason even more as he watched her through the afternoon was how much freer she seemed, as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

As they finished lunch, he offered casually, “Let me take you out to dinner tonight. Just friends. There’s a great oyster bar not far from the naval academy.”

“I know it. It’s been years since I’ve been there.”

She hadn’t said no. “We could split a pitcher of beer, have some oysters…”

“Okay.”

Mason grinned. “Great! Why don’t you sail back and I’ll crew?”

“Oh, I couldn’t…”

“Yeah. You can, Stacey. You’ve got the feel of her. Sail like you would your own boat.”